was Barrie,' I said, stroking her hair, 'but don't take any notice
of him, dear.'

'It's just what a man would say. Oh, Netta, why is life so hard to a
woman? Why must she always be the one to stifle her feelings, repress
her natural instincts, wait for man to take the lead? Why can't she be
the leading spirit if she wishes, without being humiliated? Why
shouldn't women propose?'

'That's just what I've been writing about,' I said involuntarily.

She raised her head from my shoulder. 'And what did you say about it?'

'I held that a woman can--er--oh, hang it all, never mind what I
_wrote_ about it. What I _say_ is that of course they ought to propose
if they want to. There should be perfect equality of the sexes.'

'Well, if there was,' put in Marion, her practical common sense coming
to her aid, 'it wouldn't after all make a man want to marry me just
because it was I who put the question. It's no use, Netta. I'm a born
old maid. I've got to go through life heart-hungry, loving other
people's babies instead of my own, and stepping aside to let all the
fair things go past me.'

Poor little Marion! She looked very wistful and pathetic at that
moment. A lump rose in my throat as I strove to dry her eyes and find
words of comfort.

She sobbed on unrestrainedly, however, and nothing I could say would
soothe her. 'Marion, darling,' I whispered, my own eyes growing moist,
'don't cry any more. Isn't there anything I can say to cheer you up?
Can't I suggest anything----?'

The door opened and Elizabeth entered. She carried a tray in her hand
on which were a bottle of stout and a glass.

'I thort so,' she said, setting down the tray and looking at Marion's
drooping form. 'Ah, these men--'ounds, I call 'em. I came in to 'ave
a word with Miss Marryun and cheer 'er up, like. I bin through it
myself, so I knows.'

She approached Marion and laid a damp red hand on her shoulder. 'I bin
lookin' at the cards for you, miss, an' I see a loverly future,' she
began in a coaxing voice. 'I see a tall dark man crossin' water for
you, with a present in 'is right 'and.'

Marion, who was not without a sense of humour, smiled rather wanly.
Encouraged, Elizabeth continued: 'Wot's the use o' spoilin' your pretty
eyes cryin' for the moon--by which I mean Mr. 'Arbinger--when 'e isn't
your Fate? Why, bless you, I was once goin' to marry a plumber's mate,
and jest a week afore the weddin 'e went orf with some one else an